


The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

by Arquus_Malvaceae



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Gen, Minor Injuries, OC mention, pre-Lior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18626536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arquus_Malvaceae/pseuds/Arquus_Malvaceae
Summary: Edward Elric sat at the window of Amestris’ Eastern Headquarters, chin in hand, staring out at the rain beating against the window. He was pouting and almost everyone in Roy Mustang’s office was giving him a wide berth.





	The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

Edward Elric sat at the window of Amestris’ Eastern Headquarters, chin in hand, staring out at the rain beating against the window. He was pouting and almost everyone in Roy Mustang’s office was giving him a wide berth.

 

He and Alphonse had just gotten back from another dead-end lead in their hunt for the Philosopher’s Stone, which was the original reason for Ed’s bad mood. But when they’d returned to give their report to Colonel Mustang, a letter had been waiting for them that could be a more promisinglead, and normally this would put Ed right back into his usual semi-manic good mood. But there was a hitch in his plan to head right back out into the fray: The storm.

 

Ed didn’t care, he’d stalk through a tornado if it meant getting a little closer to the Philosopher’s Stone. But the city did care. In fact, Mustang was throwing around orders coordinating with the local police to warn the locals to stay off the roads, helping people get home who got stuck out in the storm. It was predicted to be the worst storm the city had seen in decades and Mustang had informed Ed and Al in no uncertain terms that not only would they not be able to catch the train due to the rails in and out being shut down, he absolutely would not approve Ed’s assignment until the storm had passed; and _if_ Ed decided to just leave on his own, he would have to do it without the State’s backing. Which meant no money for travel, no reimbursement for an inn and other expenses, and, of course, no pocketwatch to flash to legitimize himself to the folks he’d inevitably come across who’d try to give him a hard time about acting all official when he was just a teenager.

 

Mustang and Ed both knew that Mustang had him then. So instead of arguing more, Ed just stormed off to go glare at the rain as if it had deliberately halted their plans, snarling at whoever got too close, especially if they were trying to ask if he needed anything.

 

“Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing,” Al offered cautiously, keeping his distance just in case Ed decided to take his bad mood out on his brother too. “We’ve been traveling so much lately, it might be nice to just have a couple of nights' sleep somewhere besides a train bench. I know it can’t be comfortable for you.”

 

Silence.

 

“Brother?”

 

More silence.

 

“The Colonel said it wouldn’t be more than a few days.”

 

After a few long moments of more silence, Ed finally replied in a stubborn mutter, “The storm isn’t even that _bad_.” He punctuated his statement with a gesture out the window.

 

The storm punctuated it by ripping the gate and part of the fence out of the ground in front of the Eastern Headquarters building and sending them skidding down the street. There was some commotion in the hallway behind them and a few seconds later a gaggle of soldiers rushed out the front doors, some to try to chase down the gate, others to stand guard in the gap it had left.

 

Undeterred, Ed turned away from the window to cross his arms and grouch, “It’s so stupid! A little wind and rain never hurt anybody. Mustang’s just on a power trip ‘cause it’s been a while since I was here to boss around.”

 

“That’s not true,” Al insisted, a bit upset at the accusation, “the Colonel just wants us to be safe. It’s dangerous to go out right now. We should just go over to the dorms and you should get some sleep. In a real bed.”

 

“I don’t need _sleep_ , Al, I need to be on a train _out_ of here.”

 

“But you heard the Colonel, none of the trains are running.”

 

Ed turned back to the window and muttered into his hand, “Yeah right, he’s probably lying just to make sure we stick around. Trains stopped just ‘cause of a little rain, who ever heard of something so dumb anyway.”

 

“ _We_ have,” Al insisted.

 

“What’re you talking about, Al?” Ed sighed.

 

“Back home, in Rizenbul. Don’t you remember?” Al trundled over to perch on the bench beside the window with Ed, careful not to take up too much space, and gazed out the window at the driving rain. “The day we met Teacher,” he continued. “It had rained and rained and rained, for days. The river got too high and started flooding the river. The trains couldn’t run because no one could get to the station and also they were worried about the bridge getting washed away. It was almost two whole days before the train started running again.”

 

Ed was quiet a moment, but eventually argued, “That was different. That wasn’t the _rain_ , it was the _flooding_ . They’re just complaining about the _wind_ , as if that’s gonna hurt a five ton steel _train_.”

 

Whatever Alphonse’s weary response might have been to his brother’s continued pouting stubbornness was cut off by a sudden crash and a scream upstairs. Ed and Al leapt up from their seats and hurried towards the sound ahead of Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye.

 

When they got upstairs, they were buffeted by heavy winds roaring from a broken window in General Grumman’s office. Ed had to turn to brace himself against the floor with his automail leg to keep from being knocked over. Lieutenant Hawkeye caught Alphonse’s head as it flew off his shoulders. No one could get more than a few steps towards the office. So Ed planted himself in front of Al for the extra bracing, clapped his hands together, and pressed them to the floor, and in a flash of blue, arcing down the hallway, the walls around the broken window grew in to cover the hole.

 

As soon as the wind was gone, Ed, Al, Mustang, and Hawkeye hurried down the hall to find the source of that scream. Though judging by the calm and familiar way Riza crouched to ask the man gasping against the wall on the floor if he was alright, Ed and Al got the distinct impression that she and Roy were less surprised to find a stranger in civilian clothes in the General’s office. Riza helped the man to his feet and informed Mustang that she was going to escort him to the on-site infirmary to have them look at the cuts he’d received from the window glass shattering. Mustang just nodded and turned to take in the state that the General’s office was in with a sigh.

 

While Ed was staring after Riza and the stranger, Al stepped over to Mustang, “Excuse me, Colonel? Who was that man?”

 

Mustang glanced sidelong at Al (probably also getting a look at Ed, he thought).

 

“His name is Charlton Palmer. He traveled a long way to speak to General Grumman.”

 

“Oh,” said Al. He glanced around the office … and turned back to Roy, “Um. Where _is_ the General, Colonel?”

 

Roy sighed, “General Grumman left for Central ahead of the storm to personally request aid to repair the inevitable damage. Mr. Palmer had the bad luck of arriving from Lior just before you two did with no time to make arrangements to follow the General to Central. He offered to stay up here to be out of our way and not take up space in the dorms.”

 

“ _Lior_ ?” Ed asked, finally turning away from the hall. “Where’s _that_?”

 

“It’s on the eastern border,” Roy replied. “To the north.”

 

“He really came all the way down here just to talk to the General?” Ed asked skeptically.

 

“It must have been really important,” Al offered.

 

Roy glanced at the two boys again … and smirked. Just a brief little flash.

 

“As a matter of fact, it was,” he told them. “As it turns out, there’s apparently some priest out there who Mr. Palmer is worried has become corrupt.”

 

Ed bent to pick up a pile of papers that had been blown to the floor and set them back on the General’s desk with a shrug. “Oh boy, a corrupt priest?” he asked mockingly. _There’s_ a breaking headline.”

 

Al was more curious, though, “What’s he been doing that would make Mr. Palmer come all the way to East City to talk to the General? It must be pretty bad.”

 

“According to Mr. Palmer,” Roy explained, “this priest is claiming to be performing miracles.”

 

 _That_ got Ed’s attention, his braid swinging over his shoulder as he whipped his head to stare wide-eyed at Roy.

 

“Miracles?” Al asked eagerly.

 

“What _kind_ of miracles?” Ed demanded.

 

Roy turned to look at Ed with the smug, sort of cat-who-got-the-canary smirk that made both brothers wary.

 

“Bringing the dead back to life.”

 

Al gasped, “Brother!”

 

Ed just stared for a long moment. Before his expression fell into a suspicious frown, “What’s the catch?”

 

Roy gave a little chuckled, straightened, and spread his hands, “Why, Fullmetal, you injure me. _I_ don’t even know all of the details of this poor man’s story.”

 

Ed frowned deeper, “ _What_?”

 

“You see, we were so busy getting prepared for the storm,” Roy explained, knowing that he had Ed now, “That we were only able to take a cursory statement from him.”

 

“So we need to talk to _him_ ,” Ed clarified with that same suspicious frown.

 

“Correct.”

 

“But he’s with the Lieutenant,” Ed concluded, resentful. “So we need your permission to see him.”

 

Roy didn’t bother confirming that, just gave Ed that smug little smirk again.

 

Ed crossed his arms, “What do you want.”

 

Roy sauntered past them towards the door of the office.

 

“General Grumman is expected to return from Central Headquarters in four days, weather-permitting. Naturally, he’ll be expecting his office to be in the same condition he left it in.”

 

“Including the broken window, of course,” Ed gritted out through his teeth.

 

Roy just turned back to flash that smirk again before turning down the hall, calling back with a careless air, “Report to Falman when you’re done to approve your work.”

 

Ed just stood there, glaring after Mustang, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

 

“Brother?” Al asked cautiously, seeing the way Ed was tense and shaking, wary of an explosion.

 

Ed finally opened his mouth … and sighed. He looked around the disaster of an office and pushed a hand through his hair, resigned, “Well, may as well get to work.”

 

_-End_


End file.
